


Web

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Bondage, Consensual Kink, F/F, Marking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 17:45:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's caught in her web again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Web

Aranea takes the spider thing pretty goddamn far sometimes.

Meenah fidgets impatiently, wrists bound above her head and affixed to a hook. Her back is pressed against the cold wall, bare with the exception of the ropes encircling her body in a web of intricate knots.

A shadow falls across her body. Aranea stands over her, admiring her handiwork.

“You gonna just stand there?” Meenah whispers, shivering. “Glubbin’ cold in here.”

There is a pause. The cerulean-blooded girl, silhouetted in the low light, moves to the floor. She does not allow their bodies to touch. Instead, she looks Meenah in the eyes, smiles, and hooks her finger under one of the ropes.

“Caught you,” she mutters, and pulls.

Meenah is caught by surprise as the motion tightens the rope against her. She feels a rush of blood to her lower body, and Aranea’s lips are upon her, tracing the length of her collarbone and settling on the skin of her neck.

The warmth of Aranea’s lips against her neck sends a shudder through her body. She yanks at the ropes on her wrists, willing the hook to rip itself free from the wall, but it holds fast. Aranea slips a hand between her legs, rubbing against the knot. Meenah bites her lip hard enough to draw blood.

“You’re so glubbin’ cliché, you know that,” she manages through gritted teeth.

“I hardly think you’re in a position to critique,” Aranea smirks, her breath hot on Meenah’s neck. 

She parts her lips and grazes the vulnerable skin with pointed fangs. Meenah gasps and arches her back, pressing her body against Aranea’s in a wordless plea for more.

“What was that, Meenah? About a cliché?”

The seadweller pulls helplessly at her bonds -- _fuck_ , Aranea’s good at knots -- and draws in a sharp breath.

“Fuck me,” she hisses.

Aranea moves back into the crook of Meenah’s neck; this time, she doesn’t hold back. Her teeth, razor-sharp, break the skin ever-so-slightly as they move against it. Aranea marks the spot, the taste of Meenah’s blood metallic and warm on her tongue.

Meenah gasps when Aranea breaks contact. “Just-- fuck--”

“Shh,” she replies, lifting Meenah’s chin with one slender finger. “The magic word.”

Caught in her web, Meenah can no longer muster the will to argue.

“ _Please_ ,” she groans.

Aranea nods her head.

“The pleasure is mine.”

To such a request, she will never hesitate to comply.


End file.
